Favorite Interruption
by Erisabesu
Summary: Ishida is trying to indulge in his secret Saturday afternoon obsession. Ichigo has different ideas of what Saturday afternoons are for. [IchigoIshida, implied NaruSasu] Yaoi, Rated M for language and romance Bleach style.


**Preface:** The following storyline is connected to my current Naruto project entitled "Everyone's Got Secrets," so I'd like to recommend that you read (at least) Chapter 9 of that one before continuing here. In any case, enjoy!

Warnings: This Fanfiction contains Yaoi. Rated M for male/male pairings, swear words, and sexual situations. Sorry to all fans of Kon, he is out playing with Rukia, but sends his love.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Naruto, any characters contained therein, Nintendo, or Sharpie.

_Mental summarization…_

* * *

Favorite Interruption

Saturdays were my _favorite_.

I'd been writing all morning on my latest creative project, something I didn't get to do very much during the week because of school, homework, the Handicrafts Club, and because of my boyfriend, and our nocturnal activities, which sometimes included slaying Hollows. The week was overcrowded with things that kept me from my secret obsession, so could I help it if that made me a little short-tempered and anal by the end of it?

Saturdays were different, however. Ichigo spent Friday nights with his family, and so Saturday-day belonged to ME. Ishida Uryuu deserved at least eight hours to himself, and _this_ Saturday, I was finally going to finish Chapter 9.

At least that was what I had _intended_.

I had just gotten repositioned on my favorite writing cushion, with fresh tea steaming in my favorite mug, my favorite black pens in their little jar, and my notes spread out in front of me next to my laptop, just the way I liked it… And then I sighed, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose.

I would have liked to say that there was suddenly a knock at the door, but way before I heard the knock I knew that it was coming.

That's what you got for having abnormally high spirit-senses.

And for having a boyfriend with ridiculously high reiatsu.

"Come in," I called out, letting him knock anyways, knowing it could only be him and seething on the inside at the unwanted interruption. I'd just gotten _settled_, damn it.

Ichigo threw open the door, taking off his jacket and tossing it on the old armchair across from me. He used one foot to pry the shoe off his other foot, and vice-versa, kicking them randomly off to the side, typically not caring where they landed.

"Hey."

I pushed my glasses a little farther up my nose, "You're _early_."

It's not that I didn't want to see him, but I was in the middle of my project, which he wouldn't understand even if I tried to explain what it was. He didn't even like to _read_.

"Tch, I was bored." He turned and went past me into my kitchen, opening the fridge.

I couldn't help but be in awe of him, with his raw spiritual power leaking the way it did. I watched him as he passed by without turning my head, eyes flicking from his bright hair to his long sleeved red sports shirt with the number 15, to the studded belt looped through his low-riding jeans- the ones with the ripped knees. I bit my lip. Focus, Ishida, _focus_.

"Hn," I replied, turning back to my notes, and scratching out a line I didn't like.

Ichigo came back out with the dumplings I'd made for later, and a tall glass of milk. "Oi, Ishida, you're still doing _homework_?"

I sighed loudly, watching him plop himself down across from me, tucking his absurdly long legs under the low table at which I was trying to work, "Those were supposed to be for our _dinner_."

"So? We'll have something else." He ate a dumpling anyways, chewing with his typical zealousness. Ichigo _never_ did anything halfway- just look at what he could do with _Zangetsu_.

"Tch." He had no concept of the proper order of things, and I seriously wondered how on earth we could stand each other. But I was writing my story right now, I reminded myself, and so Ichigo would have to be punished later.

"Hey, is this that thing you were writing? I thought you were more into… you know, handicrafts?" Ichigo sipped from his glass of milk. I watched him lick a stray drop from his lip, and felt my belly tighten. God, why was he here being all _hot_ when all I want to do is to finish this one scene?

I tore my eyes from him, turning back a page of my notebook and skimming my most recent notes, "I don't know why you care, but yes, it's my creative writing project. And I don't have to limit my hobbies." I sighed, "Don't you have anything else to do?"

I couldn't quite keep the annoyance out of my voice. It really made me annoyed when my personal time was interrupted, even when it was by Ichigo.

"Obviously not, that's why I came to see _you_," he scowled, eating more of our dinner.

Chapter 9 had been giving me trouble; I wasn't sure how I wanted this one section to end, and the relationship between these two characters was rather… _complex_. Not like I didn't know what _that_ was like. I'd written almost everything in the chapter, but the ending of this one part just wasn't coming, no matter how I coaxed it.

I usually didn't try to write anything while Ichigo was around, because he liked to have my full attention. And in any case he made it hard for me to concentrate, all powerfully muscular and sexy and pouty… So I tried to think of an activity that would give me some peace, at least for a little while.

"Why don't you play Nintendo or something," I suggested, trying not to look at him, though I could see his arm flexing under his shirt out of the corner of my eye as he lifted his glass of milk. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and I found myself squirming, which then made me waffle between being annoyed and _irritated_.

"I'm bored with that too," he muttered, pushing aside the empty plate and reaching for a page of my notes.

"Hey!" I said, snatching it away, and tucking it underneath the notebook.

"What the hell, Ishida?" He said. He leaned forward, like he was going to take another page of notes, and I pulled everything towards me and glared at him.

"_Kurosaki_." Yes, it was in _that_ tone.

I pushed up my glasses with my middle finger, glaring at him and shuffling my papers more safely to the side. "It's _Saturday_. Find something else to do, so I can finish this chapter. Then we'll do whatever the hell you want."

"Tch," he said, eyeing me with distrust, but settling back a little from the table. "Is this the same story you've been working on since _January_? The Ninja story, or whatever?"

"It's not _just_ a Ninja story, Kurosaki," I informed him, my voice letting him know how insulted I was.

"Whatever," he said, rolling his eyes at me, "The one about the blonde kid and the genius kid? From that show you are obsessed with?"

I fixed him with my strongest death glare, "It's called _Naruto_."

"Yeah," he leaned back on his elbows, "That's the one I meant. With the two ninja kids, right?" As he moved a small area of his stomach above the waist of his jeans was revealed, which my eyes automatically settled on. I moved my eyes up his wonderfully muscular body and glared at him again, putting down my pen, and reaching for my tea mug.

"It's actually called _Fanfiction_, although I wouldn't expect you to understand that, Kurosaki." I sipped, glad that it hadn't completely cooled off.

"Well maybe I'd understand if you would tell me what it is, _Ishida_," he challenged. Was he actually annoyed that I hadn't let him read any of it? Or was he just angry because I wasn't dropping everything to go out to the movies or whatever _he_ wanted to do right this minute?

"Why should I tell you anything when all you do is complain, _Kurosaki_?" I shot back, gesturing to my notebook and laptop.

He stretched his legs out angrily, brushing my thigh with his foot as he crossed them, "If you don't tell me anything, don't expect me _not_ to complain, _Ishida_!"

That didn't even make _sense_. I glared, annoyed with him for bugging me, and annoyed at myself for being so attracted to him even when I was annoyed. "I'd have this chapter finished _faster_ if you'd quit bugging me, Kurosaki."

I turned back to my notes, hoping he'd amuse himself somehow and leave me the hell alone. It was already a personal mission to finish this chapter _today_, and I could be very stubborn when I was pushed too hard. It was because of the Quincy upbringing. Really.

"God_damn_ it, Ishida," he grumbled, laying himself flat on the floor and tucking his hands under his head, scowling for all he was worth at my ceiling. Go ahead, Kurosaki. The ceiling deserved it.

I deliberately ignored him, rifling through my notes and uncapping my pen, determined to accomplish the task at hand no matter how hot or grumpy my boyfriend was. I chewed on the pen-cap absently, eyes flicking between my notes and the screen of the laptop, checking what I'd managed to write so far with what I had thought about writing before a certain gorgeous male person walked through my door.

Even without seeing him, I was aware of Ichigo getting up off the floor. I could hear the sound of his jeans moving on my carpet, and the chain connecting his wallet to his belt clinking against itself. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing my mind to focus on my story and simply disregard the pulsing reiatsu of Kurosaki Ichigo.

I froze when I felt him actually touch me, and looked down to see his head resting on my right thigh, the rest of him stretched out beside me. He'd squeezed himself between my old, drab sofa and the rest of the table. I raised an eyebrow, looking into his upside-down face.

"What," he asked, his eyebrows creasing more than normal as his brown eyes met mine. "I can lie here, can't I?"

I pressed my lips in a thin line, my voice warning him, "Kurosaki…"

He just closed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "Go ahead. Write your Fanfiction. I won't bother you." His face didn't relax at all.

I glared, though he wasn't even watching. It was unlike him to be so… docile, and just curl up beside me, almost peacefully. It made me suspicious. I refrained from comment, turning back to my work. Maybe I really would be able to finish this. Now where was I…? Oh right…

_Naruto opens his door, makes a fist in Sasuke's Yukata, and pulls the two of them into his pitch black apartment… Sasuke closes the door… Naruto shoves him up against it… they're kissing…_

Ichigo shifted his head more comfortably on my thigh, and I glanced down at him. His hair was so wild, completely untamed orange, and I chuckled to myself- it reminded me of Naruto's orange outfits. I preferred Ichigo's hair, though, if I had to pick something as my favorite orange thing. I stroked my fingers through it, seeing him quirk the side of his mouth in his version of a smile, nuzzling into my fingertips.

Smirking, I turned back to my laptop, scrolling down the page with my left hand. It paid to be ambidextrous. Not everyone was as lucky as me, or Ichigo for that matter. Now back to the story…

_More kissing, they're on the floor now… Naruto's wrestling with the sash of Sasuke's Yukata…_

"Do they make up?"

I glanced back down at Ichigo, who still had his eyes closed. "Pardon?" I asked, not sure what he was talking about.

"Naruto and … the dark haired kid. Do they make up? After Naruto hit him at the river?" Ichigo cracked open one eye, looking up at me as I stared down at him in utter surprise.

"You _remember_ that?" I asked, moving my hand down to his shoulder, so I could see all of his expression, even though it returned to his usual scowl.

"I'm not _stupid_, Ishida."

"I didn't _say_ that, Kurosaki," I glared, pushing my glasses up. I was going to have to do that a lot if we were going to talk from this position. "I just didn't think you remembered what I was writing about."

"Well I do," he glared back. "As far as you told me, anyways."

I pressed my lips back into a thin line, "What do you care? You don't even know the story."

"That's because you won't _tell_ me the fucking story, Ishida!"

"No," I sighed, glaring at him, "I mean the real story, on the show. You _hate_ the show, so why would I think that you wanted to know about _my_ Fanfiction?"

"I don't hate it," he shifted his head to look at me a little less upside-down. "I just think Shinigami are better."

"Oh _God_, Kurosaki," I rolled my eyes. "You're missing the whole point. I'm writing about Ninja because they're… _different_. It's part of the fantasy, I guess."

"Slaying Hollows isn't enough supernatural for you? Soul-Society? _Yoruichi_?" He asked, with only a slight amount of sarcasm.

"Kurosaki…" I trailed off. I wasn't sure If I could explain the pull Naruto had on me. I just had this… burning desire to tell a story with these characters. Their passions. Their fears. Their sensei. Learning about teamwork…

"So tell me," Ichigo sat up, scooting next to me and curling his leg behind my back, forcing it in-between me and the couch. I shifted forward so I could be at least _slightly_ comfortable.

Ichigo slipped his arms around me loosely from behind, and jerked his chin over at my laptop. "Does Naruto make up with… his teammate… er… with the eyes…"

"Uchiha Sasuke," I filled in the gap, tensing warily at his interest. "I'm _trying_ to write that part now. But _someone_ keeps interrupting me."

"Oh yeah?" Ichigo asked, craning his neck to try and read the screen, which was totally impossible from where he was sitting. "Are they going to hook up?"

I sighed, adjusting my glasses. "Are you really interested in this? You don't even like to read."

"So?" I could feel him glaring at the side of my neck, "Maybe I want to know the story because _you're_ writing it."

"Tch," I scrolled through the document, trying to ignore him again, though it bothered me. He was really being odd.

If he wanted to fool around, he would have just jumped me by now; Ichigo wasn't exactly subtle, and I wasn't ever disinterested. It was strange to have him acting all interested in my story, when he'd just played his Nintendo game the last time I tried to tell him about it. I'd been so excited, and all he could say was, "Yeah… uh-hunh… yeah…" Ad infinitum.

"_Tell_ me," he demanded, giving me a little squeeze.

I turned my neck to look at him, the angle making it hard to see out of my glasses, "Are you _serious_?"

"Yes, damn it," he replied.

I glared at him as best I could from the awkward position, "Don't _fuck_ with me, Kurosaki."

"I'm not, Ishida! Just tell me the fucking story!" I rolled my eyes, turning away from his loud voice that had just rattled my eardrum in an uncomfortably ticklish way.

"Fine," I conceded, though it annoyed me. I didn't trust his interest. "There's a festival going on in the vill-…"

"What festival?" he interrupted.

"Are you going to listen to me?" I was getting really angry now.

"Sorry! God, just… go on, Ishida." Ichigo adjusted his arms, sliding one along my stomach, and the other across my chest. I shivered, both from the closeness of his body as he held me from behind, and from the surprise that it was something right out of my story. How in the hell…

"_Ishida_," he said more impatiently.

I sighed, brushing my hair off my face a little, and scrolling back up a ways on the laptop. "As I was saying, there's a festival going on; it's the first night with all the ceremonies, and everyone's dressed up in fancy Yukata." I felt Ichigo nod against my shoulder, and I glanced to the side, not really able to see him, but wanting to make sure he was paying attention.

Since I couldn't tell, I glared, then continued anyways, "So Sasuke is walking Naruto home, and they're both really nervous, because they want to kiss, but they're not sure the other one wants to kiss, you see."

"Hmm." Ichigo made the noise into my shoulder, his lips pressed against the fabric of my turtleneck, muffling the sound but sending vibrations right along my skin. I found myself subconsciously pulling the collar of the turtleneck away from my throat- was it getting hot in here?

"They walk up flight after flight of stairs, and then they're standing in the doorway, and they don't really know what to do next. Naruto tries to say something, but it doesn't really work, and he's so cute that Sasuke starts to touch his hair…"

I trailed off because Ichigo was rubbing his chin along my shoulder, right on top where it joins into the neck. I bit my lip at the millions of tingles I felt scurrying outward from his touch along my skin, underneath the turtleneck.

"Then what happens," Ichigo says, his breath absorbed by my turtleneck, a strange warmth that distracts me from my own story.

This thought allowed me to continue, adjusting my glasses and clearing my throat, "So then Naruto moves towards him, and Sasuke just snaps, and all of a sudden they're kiss-…"

"So they do hook up! I knew it," Ichigo declares.

"God," I roll my eyes, "What do you expect? This is supposed to be a _love_ story, Kurosaki."

"I thought it was a _Ninja_ story?"

"It's a _Ninja-love story_, okay?" I was peeved. This was exactly why I didn't want to tell him. It took someone a little more refined to understand the scope of my project.

"Fine, fine, whatever." Ichigo settled himself more solidly against me. It annoyed me that I liked it.

I sighed loudly, "Are you _sure_ you want me to continue?"

"_Ishida_!" There was that insistent, barking voice in my ear, again.

"Quit yelling in my ear, Kurosaki!" I glared, for the sake of glaring. He could still feel it, even if he couldn't see it, I was sure.

I cleared my throat, "So… okay, yeah, Sasuke is kissing Naruto, and it starts getting hot-…"

"How hot," Ichigo interrupted me.

"Just… _hot_, okay?" I answered, annoyed. How was I supposed to tell him if he kept interrupting me? God_damn_ Shinigami.

"_How_ hot… _Ishida_…" He gave me another squeeze, and I'm momentarily silenced by the feel of his lips on the back of my neck. Even through the turtleneck, I could feel the power in his breath, and I shivered from my answering desire. I pulled the turtleneck away from my throat again. It was _definitely_ getting hot in here.

I swallowed, "He… Sasuke… pushes Naruto into the door, and they're grinding against each other, and then Naruto asks if he wants to go inside, and Sasuke agrees, and Naruto opens the door… and then they're kissing still, but inside the apartment door now…"

Ichigo suddenly shifted away from me, leaving my back feeling cold. I just looked at him as he slid his leg from between me and the couch, getting to his knees, and then standing beside me.

"What are you-…" I started to ask, but he grabbed me by the arm and tried to yank me to my feet.

"Come here," he said, and I just barely scrambled upright as he pulled me over to my apartment door. He stood with his back against it, pulling me hard up against him, and I put out a hand to brace myself, palm against the hard wood of the door.

"Wait, wait," I said, adjusting my glasses with my free hand, "Wait! Kurosaki-…"

"What, Ishida?" he looked at me, his face serious, his hands sliding up my back as he held me so I couldn't get away. I wasn't really sure I wanted to.

"Er…" I said, also not sure whether I was annoyed or not at being handled so roughly.

"Tell me, Ishida," Ichigo asked, bending down to kiss me.

I closed my eyes, feeling the heady rush that always happens when a Quincy kisses a Shinigami. Or at least the rush that always happens when I kiss Ichigo. He just crushed our lips together, not exactly gentle, but not exactly his usual possessive self either. I decided that I liked it, and leaned into him, curling one of my hands around the back of his neck until he pulled away.

"Tell me the story, Ishida… tell me if I'm Naruto, or Sasuke," he brushed my nose with his lips as he made this request, and I was stunned, just looking at him.

"Ishida!" He barked again, punctuating his statement with a hard thrust of his hips. Hard was right, I thought to myself, finding him more than a bit distracting. Of _course_ I pictured Ichigo when I wrote… _certain_ _scenes_… But acting it out was something entirely different- and the idea made me so hot I wasn't sure if we'd make it as far as I'd written before taking a _major_ detour.

"Okay, okay," I pushed my glasses up my nose, "You be Narut-…"

"Fine, what's Naruto doing?" Ichigo asked, still holding me close.

"No wait, Sasuke is the one who broods, and he's taller than Naruto… but Sasuke is the last Uchiha, which is more like me…" I tapped my finger on his neck, trying to remember which of us I'd written in what way.

"Ishida, pick one!" Ichigo said urgently.

"Naruto," I said firmly, "You be Naruto."

"Okay," he softened his scowl, "So what is Naruto doing?"

"Er…" I was having trouble thinking, "Naruto is pushing Sasuke into the door, and they're kissing-…"

Ichigo could move so fast! I had nearly forgotten. He flipped us around and had me against the door and nearly breathless from his kissing before I could even realize that he'd interrupted me, yet again. Oh hell, I didn't care. I just kissed him back and moaned as he thrust against me in just the right way.

He tore his lips away, kissing along my jaw and asking, "Now what?"

I bit my lip, trying to think, "Your coat, I'm taking off your coat…"

"My coat's already off," he pointed out, making his way back to my lips.

"Skip that then-…" I just barely got the words out before he was kissing me again.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Ichigo _was_ horny when he came over.

Ichigo's thrusting was almost unbearably good, and I was whimpering in no time. "Ichi…" I tried to say his name, but it got caught up somewhere between my throat and Ichigo's tongue. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing to me, which was both maddening and exciting at once. Damn Shinigami.

"What next," he whispers against my lips, and I slide my hands further up his back.

"I kiss over to your ear, and then your knees buckle and we slide to the floor." I said all this, then moved my lips across his cheek, nibbling his earlobe and making him suck in his breath.

"I can't believe…" He attempted to communicate, but he should have known better than to try it when I was sucking his earlobe in just the way he liked. I felt him stiffen against me, and I licked the ridges of his ear until he started to sink against me. I let him pull me down to the floor, and we tangled up a bit on the carpeting. Now I remembered why I gave Naruto hardwood floors. Or linoleum? _Something_ besides carpet.

Ichigo was a little breathless, holding tight to me, "I can't believe you wrote _this_ into your _Ninja_ story…"

"Hn," I said, licking his cheek and then diving back to his ear, "It's _Fanfiction_. And they do say to write what you _know_…"

Ichigo moaned, pulling me harder against him. I pulled back from his ear, letting my breath dance across his skin where it was wet from my tongue, "Now try and undo my belt, but you're struggling… you can't get it and you're frustrated…"

"Tch," Ichigo reached to my waist and started to undo the belt buckle, "What is he, _clumsy_ or _stupid_?"

"Neither," I chuckled, reaching a hand into his wild, orange hair, "It's pitch-dark. They're in Festival Yukata. And Sasuke is licking his ear… like this…"

Ichigo's hands stilled, and he gasped. It made me feel proud to know him so well.

"How… does… this _thing_… Fuck!" He said, groaning and tugging on my belt. It made my belly flip with giddy excitement to hear him say something so close to the actual line.

"Just _break_ it, Ichigo…"

I felt it in several places when he complied. First at the obvious place. Then along his back, where he gave the little jerk forward into me as the belt snapped. Then finally at his arms, where they rested underneath my own, flexing and using their strength to break through the leather like it was cardboard. It was incredibly, incredibly _hot_.

"God, Ichigo…" I sighed, moving to kiss him, sliding my hands to his belt and undoing it effortlessly.

"Hey," Ichigo complained against my mouth until I backed off a little, "How come you just undo my belt, and I had to break yours?"

"You want me to break yours too?" I asked sarcastically, nibbling down his neck to lick his Adam's apple, even though it _wasn't_ in my story.

"I don't understand why it's not equal," Ichigo was tugging my shirt out from my jeans.

I chuckled, running my hands up under his shirt, which _was_ in my story, "Sasuke is a _genius_; of course he can undo a Festival Yukata Obi in the dark."

"So you _did_ make Naruto stupid," Ichigo was stroking his fingers up my back, making me shudder against him.

"No, no," I denied it, holding him close and licking his throat, "Naruto isn't stupid; he's amazingly insightful. And _powerful_… he's the powerful one…"

"So Sasuke is weaker? Figures," Ichigo said, his fingers twining into my hair.

"Tch," I nibbled his neck a little harder, "I resent the implication, Kurosaki."

"I'm not the one writing this, _Ishida_." He can be so _irritating_.

"He is the last of his clan, but he's definitely no weakling. Sasuke is the thinker, the strategist… he's got tons of skills, plans everything out and executes the plan with no mistakes…" I trailed off, feeling Ichigo's hands under my shirt, and his pulsing reiatsu everywhere we touched. Oddly I lost interest in talking about my story. It was so much more appealing to _live_ it instead.

"What is Naruto doing now?" Ichigo asked, leaning down so he could get the right angle to kiss me on the lips once more. I moaned and went with it. God I loved kissing Kurosaki Ichigo. Better than real strawberries.

Eventually he pulled back so I could answer the question, "You take off my Yukata, and then kiss my neck, and bite me-…"

Ichigo cut me off with his very _male_ laughter, "Heh, figures." He flung my turtleneck away and shifted me square onto his lap. Why not? And then I couldn't think at all, for Ichigo's teeth were… were…

"Oh God!" I cried out, collapsing onto Ichigo and flattening him backwards onto the carpet. He held me tight, so the change in position didn't result in a chunk of my flesh being separated from the rest of me. I probably would've noticed _that_, even if it was one of my favorite things to be bitten.

Ichigo just chuckled, turning it into a growl and continuing to give me little bites and nibbles all along my neck. I was writhing from it, thrusting against Ichigo's hips, which were nicely nestled between my legs. Good call, Ichigo.

"What next… _Sasuke_?" Ichigo mumbled against my skin, and I felt goose bumps break out in a random shape like Kazakhstan or Finland, tingling outward from his lips.

"Mmmm," I moaned, trying to form words, "You… I… Oh, we forgot to take your shirt off…"

I lifted myself off of him, and watched him squirm out of his shirt, the collar making his hair even more unruly and wild as the shirt came off. God he was so adorable like that, especially with all his lean muscles revealed from under the shirt. Ichigo was _built_.

I leaned back down, sliding my tongue as far back in his mouth as I could, relishing the feel of our near-nakedness and grinding my hips along his. Ichigo curved his big hands around my backside, squeezing me and making me groan into the kiss.

"Ichigo…" I mumbled, sinking my hands into his hair as I kissed him.

Finally, the rush was too much, and I pulled back to catch my breath a little. Ichigo was panting, his brown eyes heavy with need and his obvious erection straining behind his still-zipped fly.

"What _next_?" His voice had that raspy edge that made my spine tingle.

"Uh," I tossed my head, trying to get my bangs out of my face for a moment and remember my own story, "I kiss your ears, you kiss my neck, and we grope and roll around… you're fighting me to be on top… I'm fighting ba-…"

"Got it," Ichigo said, catching my lips and rolling me over onto the carpet. I squirmed a little in objection, having to move one of his shoes out of the way. This carpet did _not_ feel good on a naked back! Ichigo didn't give me a chance to really protest though, kissing me with ferocity and shoving my pants and boxers down as far as it took to slip his hands inside…

"_Ichigo_…" I groaned, clutching at him as he stroked me, finally free from the layers of clothing.

"God, Ishida, you're so _hard_," he mumbled, his mouth working on my throat.

"What do you _expect_?" I wished I could roll my eyes in a way he could see it. Instead I managed to roll us back over, darting my tongue into his ear, and snaking my hand down to his fly.

In three seconds I had the button undone and the zipper down, and that rigid, pulsing, enormous cock of his throbbing in my hand. I pushed his boxers down, and caressed his balls, which made Ichigo groan and turn to bite my neck.

I stiffened when his teeth grazed along that spot, right where the shoulder and neck meet, and he brought out a mewl of desire. He was doing all the things I liked, and I loved him for it. Even if I had personal issues with Shinigami.

I shifted my hips so we could thrust our erections together, and Ichigo groaned and bucked underneath me from it. It didn't really surprise me when I found myself with my back on the carpet for the second time.

"Ishida…" He nibbled along my collarbone, thrusting steadily against me.

"I … _what is it_, Kurosaki?" I was writhing beneath him, stroking my fingers through his orange hair and biting my lip from the hotness of what we're doing. Wasn't that _enough_?

"What…" He panted, "Happens next?"

I blinked, staring at my ceiling. Whoops. "Um… I don't know…"

He looked me in the eye, "What do you mean, you _don't_ _know_? It's _your_ fucking story."

I rolled my eyes, "I _said_ already! I'm not done with that part of the chapter yet…"

"So _write_ it." He made this statement right before kissing me. How the hell was I supposed to write the ending like _this_?

"Kuro-…" I tried to say his name, but he was just tasting me from the inside with his typical single-minded focus. What the hell; I may as well enjoy it.

Ichigo pulled back just when I was getting into it, "Does Naruto fuck Sasuke?"

I didn't have an answer to that yet, and I was getting tired of all the interruptions. "Maybe they _don't_ fuck, Kurosaki."

He scowled at me with full force, "Damn it Ishi-…"

_I_ interrupted _him_, which made me happy, "…-Maybe they climax just from _this_, from the chak-…er, reiatsu that Naruto has."

I knew it was possible; we'd done it once. We've since learned how to control our combined spiritual powers; Hollows were by far the _worst_ interruptions you could have while in the throes of ecstasy.

"No, I think Naruto _does_ fuck Sasuke," he declared, his face all serious. I had to bite my lip from the intensity of the impatient thrusting that accompanied his rejection of my idea. _Now_ who's irritated, hmm? I glared at him. Were we even talking about my story anymore?

"Well you might just have to read it when I'm finished, Kurosaki," I glared at him, pushing up my glasses smugly, which were so smeared from our kissing that I almost couldn't see. Still, I liked to have them on, and it drove Ichigo crazy when I shifted them on my nose.

"I won't have to, because you're going to tell me right now, Ishida." He sounded awfully confident.

"Fine!" I said, thrusting up into him and making my face serious, "Then it's _Sasuke_ who fucks _Naruto_,"

"You can _write_ it that way if you want, Ishida," His eyes told me how much I was going to get pounded by him, and I couldn't help but shudder from the thought of it.

"Would you read it if I did?" I asked, stroking his collarbone with my fingertips and licking my bottom lip, to keep my drooling under control. Yes, Ichigo is _that_ sexy.

"I'd rather just fuck you," He stated bluntly. See? No subtlety whatsoever.

"Maybe I'd _let_ you if you were willing to read my story, Kurosaki," I glared at him.

"I thought it was _Fanfiction_?" He smirked at me, pleased to have caught the slip.

I bared my teeth in a scowl, "Now you'll _only_ get to read it, Kurosaki!"

"Fine!" Ichigo got off of me abruptly, and my heart lurched in a flash of fear that he was really going to storm out. God_damn_ Shinigami.

I propped myself up on my elbows to watch him move across the room to my table. Good lord, was he really going to read it _NOW_? It was over 200 pages…

He grabbed a Sharpie out of my jar of pens, and came back over, straddling me and scowling his signature scowl. "Here," he thrust the pen into my face, "Write something that I'd _want_ to read."

My jaw dropped. Ichigo's reiatsu was pulsing harder now, tingeing the air with it's unique and highly sexual flavor. I almost expected my hair to stick out from the surging power in the legs braced on either side of me. I could feel it even through both pairs of our jeans. I swallowed.

_This_, was Kurosaki Ichigo. My God, I was one lucky Quincy.

I reached up and snatched the Sharpie from his hand, using it to push up my glasses as our eyes locked. "Okay Kurosaki, we'll do it your way," I sneered.

I uncapped the marker, and upside-down and backwards, so he could read it, I wrote on my own body in big, black, capital letters: FUCK. ME.

Ichigo's mouth claimed mine with his usual fury, driving me absolutely wild even as he ground me into my own carpet. I creased my brows; we definitely had to change locations. I reached up to cup his face in my hands, managing to dislodge him from my tongue long enough to make a suggestion.

"_BED_!"

He was up and off of me so quick I was a little disoriented. But then he pulled on my arm again, and in one motion he'd grabbed me beneath my knees and was carrying me towards my room, like Rhett Butler and Scarlet O'Hara.

I kicked my feet in protest, "Fuck you, Kurosaki! Put me down!" I was not going to be tossed on my own bed like…

"Urusai!" He shouted, throwing me over his broad shoulder instead.

I kicked my feet more, with righteous indignation, "Let me go!"

"Fine!" He closed the door of my bedroom and turned, sliding me down the front of his body and pinning me. We glared at each other, and then we were kissing, with the urgency and passion that always surfaced when we were together.

Ichigo hooked his fingers in the top of my jeans, and pulled them over my ass and down my legs, leaving a wet trail down my chest from his tongue. I kicked off the encumbering clothes, and then all the breath went out of me when Ichigo swallowed my whole cock down the back of his throat.

"Ahhh… ahh, Ichi…" I panted, not caring if I sounded whorish. I could hear Ichigo's self-satisfied growling, and I sank my fingers into that impossibly orange hair, though my eyes were closed at the intensity of his suction capabilities. Maybe I really _was_ living out my story, I swear I wrote something like this….

"Ishida," Ichigo had pulled back and was now just licking the head of my cock. I cracked open an eye, annoyed that he was toying with me.

"What, _Goddammit_!" I asked, my voice surprising me with it's hysterical edge.

"Does Naruto do _this_ to Sasuke?" He looked up at me, his face serious, even as he wrapped his lips around me and swallowed me back down as far as I could go.

"Oh _God_, Ichigo…" I leaned back into the door, panting from the pleasure, "Naruto doesn't know _how_ to do that yet…" Ichigo worked me until I broke out in a sweat, my thighs trembling with the desire to shoot my load, but he knew me too well, holding me right at the edge.

"Fuck… Ichigo…" I murmured, shutting my eyes against the sight of him. He played me like Itzhak Perlman until my body was singing with the tension of it, vibrating like the hairs in his bow. No, like _my_ bow.

God_damn_ Shinigami!

"Ichigo… Ichi…I…" I felt myself shudder from the sweet torture of Ichigo's mouth.

He withdrew from me abruptly, looking me in the eye before I realized he'd stood up. "Tell me you want it," he whispered against my lips, driving his tongue into me like he'd just taken my cock.

I shuddered again, wrenching my lips from his, and glaring into his deep chocolate eyes, "God_damn_ it, Ichigo! Fuck me senseless!"

He caught me in another passionate kiss, sliding his hands down to grab onto my ass. He lifted me just like that, and I held onto his shoulders, wrapping my legs around him as he moved us to my bed.

When we hit my blankets, I shifted us over, straddling Ichigo to kiss him, and then sliding down off the edge of the bed so I could pull off his jeans and boxers. My heart stopped in my chest at the sight of him, naked and sprawled across my bed, his massive erection waiting in its entire delicious splendor, just for _me_. It was a toss-up as to where I wanted it to go first.

"Oh God, Ichigo," I mumbled under my breath, clambering back onto my bed and moving to lick the drops from the blushing, pink tip of him.

He moved his big, warm hand down to my back while I licked up and down that beautiful, hard shaft. I told my throat to relax, then slid him into my mouth, and slowly, carefully down into my throat. I closed my eyes, feeling the change in his breathing from his pleasure, and found that I wanted to moan from the hotness of it as well.

His fingers dug into my shoulder muscles as I swallowed around him, and I pictured his face, relaxed except for those eyebrows that reacted to everything like it was a challenge. Eventually I needed to breathe, and as I came up for air I heard him chuckle.

"Oi, Ishida."

I tilted my head to look at him, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, "What _now_?"

He smirked in that male way, "You should put _this_ into your story." He gave a little jerk of his hips, in case I missed his meaning. I bit my lip against the urge to call him '_Usuratonkachi_.'

"Actually Ichigo," I pushed my glasses up my nose, stroking his cock with my hand instead, "I _did_ put this in my story." I raised one eyebrow, looking at him suggestively.

His face flashed with surprise before being flooded by lust. He reached for me, and I scrambled into his arms, accepting his kisses with equal passion. He rolled me flat on my back, holding my wrists above my head and jerking his erection into my thigh.

"I am _so_ fucking you, Ishida," he growled, nibbling my neck and making me bite my lip.

"So fuck me already, Ichigo," I murmured, my body shivering from what he was doing as much as from what I _wanted_ him to do.

Ichigo moved away for a second, opening the drawer of my one end table. I felt my nipples tighten just from the thought of what he was getting. He came back with a bottle of lube, and I reached to see what kind it was, only to have him smack my hand away.

"Fuck!" I snarled as he came up beside me like we were going to spoon.

"Don't worry. I will, and you'll like it," He growled into my ear, reaching to my thigh and lifting it into position. My belly dropped from the surge of arousal; I loved it when he took me from behind. I shut my eyes and turned my chest into the blankets, shifting my leg higher to give him the right access.

He nibbled my neck and I heard the lube being uncapped. He must have coated his whole palm, for he was smearing it everywhere as he caressed me, not only at my entrance but under my balls and… well, _everywhere_.

When I caught the tell-tale scent of fake strawberries, I had to chuckle, "Oh _God_, Ichigo…"

"Tch," he murmured, his fingers moving more deliberately now, "I bet you forgot about this kind, it's always in the back of the drawer."

"That's because it's so _fruity_," I replied, turning my head to look at him.

"Urusai," He smirked, sliding his long fingers inside me, two at once, just the way I liked it.

I groaned from the intensity, watching his brown eyes over my shoulder with my darker ones, and biting my lip from the desire to have him inside me, filling me even more than he already was. I gasped when he began to thrust slowly, feeling the unusual warmth that spread from the friction.

"Fuck… Ichigo…" I moaned, realizing what he had meant before. It annoyed me that I really _had_ forgotten.

"It's warm, isn't it, Ishida?" His voice was teasing me now, and I hated how much I liked it.

"Yes, it's warm, so _fuck_ me already," I made a fist in my blankets from the frustration of his slow penetration; it was good, but _he_ felt better.

"Hn," He commented, stroking at a different angle, to brush his fingertips against my prostate. I cried out, like he knew I would. "Are you sure you don't want to just _write_ about it?"

"ICHIGO!" I yelled, twisting my body so I could glare at him, "I WILL _KILL_ YOU IF YOU DON'T…_UNNNH_!"

He finally decided to listen to me.

Amidst the surge of pleasure, I reached up and took off my glasses, setting them where I thought they wouldn't get broken. Ichigo was finally planted firmly inside me, and I twitched from the combination of his size, the friction-induced warmth of the lube, and the feel of his amazingly gorgeous body spread protectively against my back. I moaned. Well, what would _you_ do?

Ichigo didn't move at first, just held me tight, nibbling his teeth along my neck and shoulder and hooking his arm underneath my chest. I wondered absently if he could feel my heart beating frantically against his palm. His other hand slid down my arm, the one making a fist in the blankets.

I let go of the blankets so he could twine our fingers together, my heart filling with affection at the tender gesture. It was nice when we had these sweet moments, made sweeter by all the arguing. I really did love him, even though he was a Shinigami.

"How is it?" He asked me, the breathy words skimming over my skin in tingles all down my back. I modified all the horrible things I'd called him in my mind over the last week. Ichigo really _was_ sensitive. He just didn't like people to know it.

"It's good, Ichigo," I murmured, squeezing his fingers, "You always feel so fucking good…"

"So do you," he said.

And then I really couldn't think, or speak, or do anything but groan whorishly into my blankets as he thrust his huge cock in a steady, hard rhythm as far deep as he could get. Ichigo's breaths were hot puffs on the back of my neck, and a piece of my hair flipped forward and stuck at the corner of my mouth.

"_God_… _Ichigo_…" I managed to moan, not at all surprised by Ichigo's slightly faster thrusting in response. He knew I liked it long and hard, and I've never had any cause to complain; only to wonder how in the hell he had so much stamina.

He had no reason to complain either, and I felt myself smirking into my blankets at what our favorite position revealed about us- me trapped beneath him, and Ichigo with all the freedom of movement and decision power.

I decided it was okay for him to feel like the stronger one, even though I was sure no Shinigami could handle him in bed. Only a _Quincy_ could match his insane power, and once again I counted myself lucky to be one, even if I was the last.

Soon Ichigo sank his teeth into my neck, a sure sign that he was getting to the point where he wanted to come. I cried out from the pleasure of being bitten, wondering if the sounds I made turned him on even more, and I tried to thrust my hips back against him enough to let him know I was also ready to come.

Ichigo growled against my neck, and shifted us slightly, so that two amazingly hot things could happen. One, he had space enough that he could move our twined hands down to my erection, and two, his cock was now pressing against my prostate with every thrust, radiating warmth from the special lube. I shuddered against him from the combination, and heard his self-satisfied chuckling quietly behind my ear.

He moved my hand past my hard-on underneath my balls, getting some of the excess lube on my previously dry palm before letting me close our fingers around myself. I sighed from the heat of it; my God I was a lucky Quincy.

We slowly jerked me off, my hand regulating the pressure of our fingers, his hand regulating the speed of the strokes. It was _unbelievable_. I was so turned on, I somehow managed to twist my neck so that our lips could meet, our tongues sliding together in mutual desperation until we were both panting too hard to keep kissing.

"_Uryuu_…" Ichigo moaned at the back of my neck, and he began to thrust faster inside me, making us both gasp from the heat of the friction. My heart leapt at the sound of my name, my real name that he hardly ever said.

"_Ichigo_…" I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear me, adding the strength in my arm muscles to quicken the pace of our combined stroking. God, I was so ready, I could feel the tingling…

My breaths sped up into short little gasps, and I knew my face was flushed. He let me take over the stroking of my cock, keeping his hand linked with mine so he could feel it when I finally climaxed. My body shuddered, and I made inarticulate noises of bliss, echoing with Ichigo's groaning from feeling my orgasm from the inside. It made a big mess in my blankets, but I didn't care. I knew how to get it out in the laundry.

Ichigo let go of my hand, bracing himself more soundly so he could thrust harder and faster, harder and faster, driving the breath out of me from the power leaking from his whole body. My spirit-sense could see it centered in his abdomen, churning as he drew out his own arousal as long as he could. I didn't need to have my eyes open to see it spill out of him, crashing over us in a small (for him) tidal wave of pleasure.

"Uryuu!" He screamed, his head tossed back to reveal the sexy line of his throat as his body quivered inside me.

The atmosphere stilled in the apartment, broken only by our gasping breaths and soft whimpers as we collapsed together, spooning while our heart rates slowed back down to semi-normal. I hissed my breath as Ichigo carefully withdrew; the lube was still making things abnormally warm. Ichigo wrapped both his arms around me, and I snuggled back into his hold, with his knees poking into the backs of mine.

"Mmmmm," I sighed contentedly, feeling his lips kiss my neck softly.

"Mmm," he agreed, giving me a squeeze. I closed my eyes, feeling his heart beating steadily against my spine, our combined heat making us sweat a little where our skin touched.

"Ishida." His voice was thoughtful, pensive.

"Yes?" I answered.

"How was that?"

I frowned, and turned so I could look at his face. I started to push up my glasses before I realized that I'd taken them off, "I thought we were _way_ past having to compliment each other after sex, Ichigo. It was fucking _incredible_; do you really need to hear me say it?"

Ichigo scowled, "No, Ishida, fuck. I meant the _story_."

I furrowed my brows in confusion, "You think I should write what we just did into my story?"

He reached up and brushed that piece of hair away from my lip, "Yeah. If you want to." I curled up more fully against him, shifting my legs over his bent knees.

It was an interesting idea… although we were at a _much_ higher level of sexual skill than either Naruto or Sasuke…

"I'm not sure, Ichigo," I said, touching the line of his jaw, and ghosting my fingertips over his Adam's apple.

"What," He scowled at me, "Not _hot_ enough?"

"Tch," I leaned in and kissed him, "Altogether _too_ hot, Kurosaki."

"Hn," He replied, kissing me thoroughly and sliding a hand down my back to grab my ass.

I broke off the kiss, looking into his brown eyes, "But maybe it could work for their _sensei_."

"What _sensei_?" He asked, his brows creasing like it was a bad thing.

"Naruto and Sasuke's sensei," I replied, "They're in the story too, and they're _hot_. Especially when they're togeth-…"

"Hotter than _us_? Ishida?" Ichigo was fixing me with a lusty stare. I glared at him. Didn't he understand yet that I hated to be interrupted?

I smirked evilly at him, "Well, Ichigo, you'll have to read their latest sex scene and tell me-…"

Ichigo silenced me with his favorite method, and my second favorite part of him. Make that fourth. I really did love this Shinigami, heart and soul.

As for Naruto and Sasuke… it would probably take them at least until Chapter 14 to compete with me and Ichigo. Especially if Ichigo kept interrupting me on Saturday afternoons. I tilted his head back and kissed him until my lips were swollen and tender from it.

Then again… maybe _that_ was a kind of interruption I could look forward to.


End file.
